


Running Errands

by wookieefucker



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Medical Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other, Reader-Insert, Spanking, ambiguously gendered reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 23:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wookieefucker/pseuds/wookieefucker
Summary: This is straight up Rick/Rick and Rick/Reader porn that I wrote for my friends and refuse to be ashamed of. Have fun.





	Running Errands

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely considered not posting this. I have friends who have access to this page. Oh well. Enjoy, I guess.

“I’ll, uh, st-start at the top and work my way down, does that s- _eugh_ -ound alright?”

Fingers wave in front of your face and you jump a little bit in your seat, a blush quickly rising to your cheeks as you realize that you’ve zoned out yet again. Surgeon Rick doesn’t miss a trick, and he laughs at you, and wiggles his fingers and his brow at you simultaneously, snorting as you struggle to hide your reactions to him.

Two months ago, you had answered an ad in the paper about a summer job. The ad had read “Need Money? Moderately Intelligent? Not Afraid of Aliens? Have We Got a Fucking Job for You!” and had then listed a phone number. You’d been amused, and your mom had been yelling about you wasting your summer away on the couch all day while you were home from college, so you had called.

In the present you’re shaken again as you realize that there’s another Rick that’s just walked into the little clinic you’ve stopped by on the Citadel. Your Rick had brought you here several times before, but today when you both arrived he’d sent you on your own to run errands while he went to do “something,” air quotes included. You’d been fine until a couple of Mortys in a hurry had knocked you down a flight of stairs. They’d looked horrified, and had picked you up, hustled you to the clinic, and then beat it, quickly.

The Rick that walks by you is a Punk Rick, and he smacks Surgeon Rick’s ass as he walks past him, and the old man holding the little pen light in front of your eyes grins lecherously, and reaches down to grab his crotch, giving the other Rick a leer over his shoulder, before turning back to professionalism, or as professional as a Rick could get, and finishing examining you.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures you after a few more moments he spends checking out your various motor functions, and pats a hand down hard on your thigh. It tingles, and you look up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze. He laughs, and his gravel voice reminds you of the Rick that you’re supposed to be running errands for. When you get up to go, though, Surgeon Rick shakes his head. You need to rest, he says, and when you argue, claiming that your Rick needs you, he shakes his head and pulls up your chart.

“You’re with Rick c698, right?” He asks, and it comes out bored. You nod, and he says, “Right, I’ll let him know,” and sticks you with a sedative. You start to protest, but the drug washes over you, and sleep takes you before you can make a noise.

You wake up, still fuzzy, and realize that you’re held in a stasis field like Surgeon Rick uses for especially damaged Mortys. You try to speak and move, to demand to be let go, to yell that you never agreed to be drugged, but you can’t, really. You can move within the confines of the stasis field, and you can speak, but it echoes strangely, and you realize that no one can hear you.

You flip around in the field, looking for someone that you can mime at until they let you out, and you realize then that you’re completely nude. You flush darkly at that, and realize that as exposed as you are, the flush covers most of your torso, and your face burns hotter.

You hear strangely echoing noises next, and realize that everything outside must take on a distorted tone in here. You look around for the source of the repeating echoes, seeing no one else in this back room that appears to be Surgeon Rick’s office. Finally, your eyes land on his desk, and they widen.

On the desk is a screen holding a security feed for the main checkup room in the clinic, featuring several angles. You can see Surgeon Rick there, bent over the doctor’s exam table, lab coat rucked up over his back. His pants are around his ankles, and Punk Rick is behind him. He grins, running his tongue against the edge of his teeth, and pulls his hand back, letting it fall with a _thwack_ on Surgeon Rick’s ass. For an old man, it’s a pretty nice ass. In all honesty, it’s a nice ass for anyone, you let yourself think, and then flush again.

Punk Rick rubs a hand on Surgeon Rick’s lower back, massaging away tension, and he relaxes into the touch, deepening his bent over posture in an almost catlike manner. Punk Rick pulls his thick leather belt off then, and your eyes get wider. That looks like it’s going to hurt.

The next echoing thud to make its way through the security feed and distort through the stasis field is followed by a choked sob, and you watch Surgeon Rick’s hips stutter as he humps the exam table. Punk Rick shakes his head, and grips a handful of Surgeon Rick’s hair, pulling his head up. He speaks to him then, faces close together, and you can’t hear what’s being said. You check out the other camera angles then, and wince at the redness you see from the angle that shows off Surgeon Rick’s ass the best. You think about when he smacked your thigh after pronouncing that you’d be fine.

You’re definitely wet right now.

Punk Rick stands back up as you glance around, checking for anyone in this room that you hadn’t seen the first time, but you’re truly alone. You swallow, and try to silently talk yourself out of what you ultimately know is inevitable at this point, and then you see Punk Rick, still in his ripped jeans, smack Surgeon Rick on the ass again and then come up behind him. He grips those slender hips and steps in close, grinding his clothed dick against Surgeon Rick’s red ass, and you wonder if it hurts as good as you think it does.

He leans forward, jerks his hips in hard a few times, and bites down where Surgeon Rick’s shoulder meets his neck, and then kisses the mark. Surgeon Rick looks up, and he’s shed some tears, you can tell, but he looks euphoric in this moment.

Punk Rick hauls him up and around, and then is kissing him when you finally succumb to the moment and reach a hand down. Your furtive rubs build fairly quickly into what feels like the lead-up to a powerful orgasm when you glance back up and see the security feed is empty. You go to stop, but you’re too late. The office door bursts open and both Ricks catch you. Your eyes snap open wide in embarrassment, and they both stare at you with matching grins.

You’re absolutely mortified, of course. You may have fooled around with your Rick a time or two; two consenting adults in a garage, alcohol, long nights, and a lot of alone time weren’t circumstances that lent themselves to chastity, but this was new.

“You’ve been naughty,” Punk Rick finally says, his voice distorted by the stasis field. You’re flushed so dark that you don’t think you can show your embarrassment any worse before that, but his next words embarrass you further with the way that they arouse you. “Maybe Daddy needs to punish you.”

Surgeon Rick’s eyes light up, and he grins. He’s completely dressed again, and aside from his slightly reddened face you can’t tell that he was bent over for Punk Rick just moments ago. It feels like a fever dream as the two of them shut off the field and catch you. You close your eyes tightly, and Punk Rick places a large hand on your lower back, and leans in closely. His breath fills your ear, and he whispers, “Bend over the desk for Daddy.”

Surgeon Rick has already pulled his pants back down, wincing as he settles into his desk chair that he’s pulled back and positioned to get the best view. You know that you could leave right now – Ricks aren’t into non-consensual situations, whatever else they might do, but you’re strangely drawn to all of this. You do as you’re told.

The first smack glances from your cheek, and you burn in humiliation as Punk Rick laughs as he sets to beating your ass. You moan as your hips slam forward into the edge of the desk with the first truly hard wallop he gives you, and a trail of wetness connects you to the desk now. You can hear wet slapping noises as Surgeon Rick rubs his dick behind you, and Punk Rick rests a hand on your lower back, pausing a moment.

“Don’t come,” he commands, and Surgeon Rick groans. Punk Rick growls in response, and something clenches tight in your core as you hear it, and a warm heat pools in your gut. “If you come before this naughty little brat does, I’ll tie you down and beat your ass until it _doesn’t_ feel good anymore, and then do it again the next day,” he growls, and you wonder why such a horrible threat just makes him moan with a fevered heat.

You glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Surgeon Rick and he sighs, gripping himself tightly, and then he lets go. Punk Rick nods in approval.

“What a good boy,” he coos, and Surgeon Rick flushes red at the praise. “Daddy’s good boy,” he continues, and then adds, “Pinch your nipples for Daddy, hard.” Surgeon Rick swallows, and nods, and does as he’s told. His back arches in his chair, and you remember that he’s sitting on his freshly spanked ass. You feel your own throb, and know that it hurts. You’re even wetter now.

Punk Rick watches with idle detachment, and Surgeon Rick is panting by the time he lets him stop. His nipples and areolas are red and puffy, and he’s crying, little tears that seep from the corners of his eyes, and Punk Rick looks satisfied. He turns back to you.

“Now to t-take care of you, you bad l- _eugh_ -ittle brat.” You squirm at the way he addresses you, but you don’t tell him to stop. He smacks a hand down hard on your lower ass, almost your thigh, and you almost shoot up, but his firm and strong hand holds you down.

He smacks you until you’re sure you can take no more, and then he stops, and you sigh in relief, and hiccup. You’ve been crying for about a minute now. He comes up behind you, close, like he had on the monitor before, and you let out a whimper as his rough jeans rub up against your raw ass. His dick is straining, and you feel it hot and hard between your ass cheeks. He grabs your hips then, slamming in, humping you like you’re an object, just there for his use.

After a moment he reaches around, rubbing at your wetness, and you moan loudly. Surgeon Rick lets out a gasp then, and you think you can hear him rubbing at his dick again. Punk Rick leans forward, reaching his other hand, his left, up to pinch hard at your nipple, and you hate then that all Ricks are ambidextrous. He’s as accomplished at this as he is and jerking you off, and it hurts. It hurts good, though.

He switches sides, then, and pinches your other nipple, and the first one throbs where he’s let go of it. He doesn’t go back to rubbing you, though. He unzips his pants then, and shoves them down one handed. He’s not wearing underwear.

Punk Rick stops pinching and starts flicking your right nipple, and you let out a sob, reminiscent of Surgeon Rick earlier. He adjusts himself with his other hand, sliding his dick between your thighs. He shoves you farther up on the desk, and he doesn’t penetrate you, but he fucks you hard. He leaves your nipples alone, and you’re glad – they throb in time with your heartbeat, and your blood is pumping as his hips push in and out, his dick trailing wetness on your inner thighs.

You can hear Surgeon Rick breathing hard as he jerks himself off from the side, still sitting in the desk chair, and he groans in frustration. Punk Rick leans forward again, hands holding your hips still as he fucks into the tight heat your thighs hold, and he licks a stripe up your spine, and then sucks a hickey onto the back of your neck. He reaches his right hand around again, and his steady touch pulls you to completion.

As you cry out, he groans, deep and growly in your ear, and his hips are moving rapid-fire. Soon after you hear a satisfied moan from Surgeon Rick behind you as he comes, and then Punk Rick follows, still touching you. You’re overstimulated then, and he keeps going, hips tight to you. Your ass throbs where his jeans rubbed the sore spots to a raw and uncomfortable pain, and his softening dick is held in between your legs. Still he keeps going.

You cry at this point, but you can’t move. He’s holding you tightly, and as much as you squirm you still don’t protest. Finally, you come a second time, and it catches your breath and holds you captive. You can’t breathe, and you gasp out a moan as the feeling washes over you, and your body spasms as it almost hurts as your orgasm takes you.

Punk Rick leaves then, pulling out of the heat of your thighs where they’d been pushed together, and you lay there, panting. He comes back in a moment, and first he cleans you up, and then he cleans up Surgeon Rick. He doesn’t offer you anything for the pain, and neither does Surgeon Rick. You don’t ask for anything. You get dressed in silence, but it’s not awkward. There’s just nothing to say.

When you leave, Surgeon Rick gives you a lollipop and tells you that “good children get suckers when they leave the doctor’s office.” Punk Rick rolls his eyes at this, gives Surgeon Rick a scorching kiss and a dick squeeze through his pants as a goodbye, and walks you to the away portal pier. Your Rick is waiting for you, and they size each other up as they pass you off in silence. Finally, your Rick scoffs, and rolls his eyes, and Punk Rick laughs.

“Fuck you, buddy,” your Rick says as way of goodbye, and Punk Rick flips him off, walking backwards until you disappear through the portal. You realize as you make it back to Rick’s garage that you never got the things he sent you to get. You wonder if you could convince him to punish you for it.


End file.
